One in 4.3 Million

A 'rejuvenated' broadcaster

 Mike Bodnar looks back on a year of podcasting, and reflects on the value of speaking out loud...

There's no shortage of opportunities to get yourself heard these days - social media, as we all know (sometimes to our despair), is rife with gossip, news, opinions, thoughts, anger and, sadly, hate.

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Trolls used to be fairy-tale beings living under Scandi bridges; today they are vile ranters who yell, swear, and promise fire and brimstone on those they disagree with - those who have dared to post something contrary to their way of thinking. They still live under bridges though: the protective cover that social media gives them in the form of noms-de-plume - behind which they remain safely anonymous. They like to think of themselves as heroes, standard-bearers for those others who share their skewed perspectives. They like to think they, above all others, are right. And they are - usually far right.

So it could be argued that the Internet - and social media in particular - is to be avoided if you want to be heard dispassionately, or at least taken seriously. Not entirely true, because this doesn't take into account the power - and increasing popularity of - podcasts.

Listen when you like

Over the past decade, podcasts have experienced remarkable growth, transforming from a niche format into a mainstream media powerhouse. Advances in technology and the ubiquity of smartphones have played a pivotal role in this evolution. People now have easy access to a vast library of podcasts on a huge range of topics, from true crime and comedy to science and self-improvement. Streaming platforms such as Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and Google Podcasts have made discovery and listening seamless, contributing significantly to the medium's growth.

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Unlike other forms of media, podcasts are ideal for multitasking - they can be consumed during commutes, workouts, or household chores. This convenience has made them a staple for millions. Moreover, podcasts have given creators an opportunity to connect intimately with their audiences. The conversational tone of podcasts often fosters a sense of community, which keeps listeners coming back for more.

This has given rise to a New Age of broadcasters, and the low barrier to entry means anyone can start a podcast - become a broadcaster (or perhaps a better term for most would be narrowcaster) - leading to a surge in diverse voices and perspectives. As a result, podcasting has truly become a dynamic and influential medium in today's media landscape. But it's not the first.

Back to the Future

The opportunity afforded to diverse voices and perspectives is nothing new, at least not here in Aotearoa/New Zealand. 

As early as 1981, a medium aimed at giving a platform to diverse voices on a wide range of

subjects began in Wellington, New Zealand's capital. It was called Access Radio, and operated on an AM frequency, reaching a small and clearly defined local population. Sure, it wasn't the Internet - that was still over the horizon anyway - but in the 1980s, radio, especially community radio, was still strong, still popular. The arrival of Access Radio however, heralded the emergence of a non-commercial station, one which was by, for, and about its own local community. It wasn't about edgy breakfast shows, or drivetime commute music, or even news and weather on the hour; it was about people.

Image: Deviantart

Leap into your DeLorean and race forward 44 years, and today there are a dozen such Access stations throughout the country, but some things have changed. The stations still broadcast, but now on FM frequencies. More than that though, each station has its own Internet presence, its own website, through which absolutely anyone can listen regardless of distance from the station. So even if you live in Manchester, England, or Little Rock, Arkansas, you can easily listen to any Access Radio programme from New Zealand.

And it doesn't have to be live, because all Access programmes can be streamed as podcasts, joining an estimated 4.3 million podcasts available worldwide, and can be found on accessmedia.co.nz, a site that acts as a collective for the Access network.

As someone who worked in radio many years ago (decades, let's be frank, Ed.) it suddenly dawned on me that there was nothing stopping me from getting back behind the microphone. People had always said I had a great face for radio - here was the opportunity to do it again.

Walking the Talk

So a year ago, I joined Wellington Access Radio and began making my own programme. Better late then never.

Many Access programmes are ethnic, culture-driven productions, or religion-specific, maybe

niche music-oriented (bluegrass fans rejoice!), while some are topic-centric (climate change,  current affairs, local politics, etc). The one thing they have in common is that they are all 'by, for, and about' their communities - a requirement for the Access stations to qualify for funding support from the government agency New Zealand on Air. The viability of the stations is also bolstered through small broadcasting and membership fees (of which, more later), grants and donations, and sponsorship. 

So, if, for example, you visit the Wellington Access 'Shows & Podcasts' page online, you'll find over a hundred things to listen to. Including (promo time here) my own show, 'Mike On...'

At the age of mumbledy-something - let's just say 'a certain age' - I decided to make a fortnightly programme for a more mature audience, but in both senses of the word. Because of course, some people can be old beyond their years, so in my intro to the programme I emphasise that even though it's for listeners 'of a certain age,' it doesn't matter whether you're 16 or 96.

I decided on a chat-show format, and apart from two episodes, each programme has featured a guest who specialises in a certain field, or has a personal story to relate, or has some new and interesting research to share. I have deliberately avoided each episode being about something older age-related though; because while we might be in our (insert age group here)  it doesn't mean we want to listen only to programmes about older folk. So, in the past 12 months I have had guests talking about a wide range of topics, from the value of volunteering, to how the native tuatara (a reptile) survived the asteroid impact, through classic motor vehicle collecting, why New Zealanders avoid the news more than any other nation, to understanding the slang, acronyms and abbreviations of Gen. Z today. For that programme my guests were two 16-year-old high school students.

Image: Flickr

When my 24th episode hits the airwaves on Thursday 24 April (it's an ANZAC Day special featuring an interview with a D-Day veteran), 'Mike On...' will be celebrating its first full year on air. Happy birthday to me. And at my age, one candle is about all I can blow out anyway!

Measuring success

I could, of course, have done all this from my own home, like so many other podcasters, but Wellington Access Radio - along with all the other stations in the network - offers a focal point, a place where I can go and use professional equipment in a proper studio to record (or broadcast live if required) my programmes. I can mingle with other programme makers, and chat to (and get technical and marketing help from) the station staff.

It's not free, but it doesn't cost much, and there's a scale of fees appropriate to your own situation. I can tell you now that it costs me about NZ$52 per month. I could seek sponsorship if I wanted, but I'm trying to avoid a commercial tie-in situation. 

So how has it been going?

Measuring the audience. Image: Wikimedia

Let's put it this way: making a programme/podcast like this is the broadcast equivalent of self-publishing; I have created something, and I'm paying to get it 'out there,' just like an author might. 

Also like a self-published author, it's largely up to me to market my product. An author, for example publishing through Amazon's KDP platform, can spend as little or as much as they like on promoting their book.

With me, it's the same, but as with my two self-published books (to date), I can't afford to pay for promotion. What I do do, is share my programmes via Spotify Podcasts, iHeart radio Podcasts, and Apple Podcasts, in the hope of reaching as wide an audience as possible. I promote new programmes on social media, but I don't have many followers.

A benefit of using Spotify Podcasts is that I can see immediate and up-to-date analytics on my 'dashboard' showing exactly how many people have streamed my programmes. It's not many, I confess.

Access Radio does not get funding to cover annual or twice-yearly listener surveys such as commercial stations might be able to afford (and with which they can attract advertisers), so I have little way of knowing who, or how many people, listen. I need to be self-reliant in that respect; I need to be my own 'fan base.' Because to date I have directly received only one piece of unsought feedback. Just one. So let's talk some more on the subject of self-reliance.

The Role of Ego

There has been many a time in the past year when I've thought, why bother? What's the point of putting all this effort - and $52 a month - into making programmes that hardly anyone listens to?

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The answer is pride. I am - I have to be - proud of my product. I have to be independent of external acknowledgement and tell myself, it's okay, this is good. I learned about production values when I worked full-time in broadcasting, so I know what makes a good programme, and I apply that knowledge when making mine.

But because nobody else admires the programmes - at least not overtly - I have to do that myself. I have to constantly remind myself that these programmes could go on mainstream radio and not be out of place. (And along with the lack of feedback, I have, importantly, received no criticism either. I know... it could be argued that that just means nobody's listening!). But as I said at the start of this blog, ranters and trolls are always waiting in the wings to shoot you down. The fact that they haven't is at least a positive.

It's obvious from now having made over 20 programmes that the ones that attract the most listeners are those in which the person I've interviewed also promotes the programme to their own networks. For example, last September I broadcast an episode on assisted dying, based on an interview with a man who had been given less than six months to live and who had chosen to legally end his life.

A New Zealand assisted dying support organisation promoted the programme to their network, and hey presto: listeners! Not many, just 90 on Spotify, (although my blog on this blogsite on the same subject was read by over 650 people), and there's an unknown number who might have listened on Access Radio either live or as a podcast.

Ego is a double-edged sword; in the wrong hands, applied at an inappropriate time, it can earn you a reputation for being a big-head. But privately, when I just tell myself that my programmes are good quality, it does the job.

One in 4.3 million

As I mentioned, it's estimated that there are 4.3 million podcasts available globally, and that number will only rise. I have a lot of competition, and I'm not the only one making a chat show. There are even plenty of other podcasts called 'Mike On', dammit. But there are over 500 million podcast listeners, which is a healthy ratio, so I just need to attract some of them.

But now that I'm approaching my programme's first anniversary I can look back on 24 programmes well-made to a high standard. I can be satisfied that I've done it, I've proved to myself that it could be done, and I will carry on.

I know I'm just one programme/podcast in 4.3 million, but 'Mike On...' is damn good.

Have a listen sometime, and let me know what you think.

The Book of the Year! Success for Unity!

 Actually, my apologies, I think I’ve transposed the headline; maybe it should be The Year of the Book, since 2023 was when I completed and published my first spy novel, Unity. Thank you, thanks. Wonderful. No really, there’s no need. Oh all right, keep going… (takes a bow, accepts flowers)

Was Unity a success? Well, that's a good question, but it might not be the best way to ask it. I’m reminded of when Bilbo wishes the wizard Gandalf good morning: Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. “What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”

I’m no wizard (and some might argue no author), but whether my novel has been a success depends on the perspective. So, at the top level we could perhaps argue that for a novel to be successful it must have become a best-seller, perhaps with the film rights bought by a production company. Unity has sold fewer than 150 copies in a year (pass me the tissues…) and nobody has beaten a path to my door for the rights to it, so in that respect it has been a miserable failure.

Another benchmark would be that an established publisher picked it up and is now promoting it to booksellers and libraries throughout the land, with a generous advance to me to write a sequel. The publisher has organized a number of launches and signings, and I am in demand by all the literary supplements for interviews and profile pieces. Spoiler alert: I don’t have a publisher. I self-published, so no speaking tour or interviews, and no profile pieces. And I can’t afford any paid promotion. Success? Nope.

It’s about here that Gandalf, his bushy eyebrows arching together, would ask: “Or do you mean it’s successful because those who’ve read it have enjoyed it?” Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. By all accounts – and I mean verifiable feedback: reviews and ratings on both Amazon and Goodreads, along with direct emails and feedback to me personally – Unity has been successful. Those who’ve read it have enjoyed it (or for some reason been too scared to tell me they haven’t).

Ah yes, you ask, but are we talking hundreds of reviews and ratings? Because that would be a measure of success surely. Er, no. At time of writing there are 14 ratings and ten reviews on Amazon (but averaging 4.8 out of 5), and nine ratings with five reviews on Goodreads (all five stars). In terms of the quality of feedback then, yes Unity is a successful novel. In respect of the quantity? No, still struggling.

But what about peer endorsements? Established novelists usually have another famous author endorsing their books on the front cover, which gives confidence to the potential reader. If Ian Rankin says of Mick Herron’s Spook Street that it’s “A terrific spy novel” (which he does) then for Ian Rankin fans that’s all they need to check out Herron’s works. Did Unity receive any famous endorsements?

Well, actually, yes. Veteran actor Derren Nesbitt (Where Eagles Dare, The Prisoner, Special Branch, etc.) liked it and said I was “a very fine writer.” (Some may know that Unity has a tie-in to the enigmatic ’60s British TV series The Prisoner and Nesbitt was one of the guest stars). And David Pinner, author of Ritual on which the cult film The Wicker Man is based, calls Unity “a fine thriller.”

Successful endorsements? Yes and no. If Unity was widely available in bookshops and people saw those endorsements on the cover they might well be encouraged to purchase. But it’s not. So, lovely though the endorsements are, it’s like shouting them into the darkness and not even hearing an echo. But I’ve got them, so at least that’s something.

But about now Gandalf would be going, “Hrumph,” and snapping the reins to get his horse and cart moving along with some haste.

Am I despondent? Do I feel writing Unity was all a waste of time? Am I giving up writing altogether? You’d be entitled to ask given that so few copies have sold and considering all the energy I put into it. But for those of you with a bad case of schadenfreude, bad luck; no I’m not giving up, and here’s why…

I learned a lot about writing when I authored Unity. I unashamedly mimicked some of my favourite authors, emulating their writing styles and being inspired by their use of language. Not for a moment is this plagiarism; I am talking about being inspired by other authors, not pinching story lines, paragraphs or whole pages from them. I believe the quality of my writing improved as a result. That’s a success, and I enjoyed writing the book. Yay, high-fives all round.

When the book was in its final draft form I managed to cobble together a ‘focus group’ of 12 pre-readers who agreed to read it and provide me feedback, both in terms of the story and the grammar, spelling etc. As a result, I was able to tweak the narrative appropriately before release and fix most of the errors; any remaining are entirely my fault. How is that a success? Well, I didn’t have to pay for an editor (which I couldn’t afford anyway) and it helped confirm for me that the story was actually okay; independent readers told me so.

And finally, I successfully self-published Unity using Amazon KDP – Kindle Direct Publishing – a platform for authors to get their works published and available globally at virtually no cost. I designed and created my own cover, uploaded and formatted the manuscript, and proofed everything before hitting the “Publish” button. Hey presto, the book was born.

There are no vast stocks of Unity sitting in a warehouse somewhere, costing me storage fees; Amazon KDP makes the eBook version available for instant download, while the paperback and hardback versions are available on a print-on-demand basis, something that still gobsmacks me to this day. I recently ordered ten copies and they arrived within seven days. I don’t know how they do it.

I know of authors who can’t negotiate the mechanics of publishing with KDP and who pay “experts” a lot of money to do it for them. In that respect, I regard having done it by myself an achievement.

But beyond all of that, I wrote a spy novel. It might not win the Booker, it might not be a best-seller, and it might not even be in the shops. The thing is: I did it.

Success.

(Find out more about Unity: Peace for All, Freedom for None at www.unitystory.com)

The Jewel in the Crown?

Mike Bodnar ponders the frustrations of gaining an endorsement for his debut novel while facing the big problem of all self-publishers...

Caution: Analogy Ahead!

I have been given a valuable jewel, a shining faceted trinket, worth - in certain circumstances - a great deal, and yet also possibly worth nothing. I am in a dilemma. But let's do a quick recap first so you can better understand where I'm coming from...

I self-published my first novel (through Amazon KDP) in April this year. It's a spy thriller in the classic Cold War genre. I may have made a mistake tying it into a popular 1960s British TV series that even today, 55 years after it first screened, enjoys cult status. The series is called The Prisoner. Why a mistake? Read on...

My book - Unity: Peace for All, Freedom for None - takes the flipside of the television series and aims to give a fictional yet plausible behind-the-scenes story to make sense of the enigmatic offering on screen. Problem is, I don't own the rights to the series, and ITV (who do) won't enter into negotiations with me. So, it's published, sadly, as a work of what's called 'fan fiction' (a term I loathe, and a major mistake).

Being a self-publisher I don't have a marketing budget (and because the work is fan fiction I'm not allowed to profit from it, so there's another mistake). Therefore my marketing to date has been limited to a book launch, and lots of social media posts. But I have tried to get endorsements from other well-known authors in the hope their encouraging words might help people decide to purchase.

Fishing for compliments

I have had limited success. Robert Harris's publisher returned the book with a polite no, sorry. Most others didn't even respond. But I did get a lovely endorsement from one of the few remaining actors who starred in The Prisoner, Derren Nesbitt (also of Where Eagles Dare fame, and more), and although he described me as 'very talented', and a 'fine writer', he felt I'd made a mistake tying the book to the TV programme (biggest mistake endorsed by famous actor!)

I have, more recently however, received a glowing testimony from an author rather than an actor, one David Pinner, who wrote the novel Ritual that was turned into a film called The Wicker Man (also a cult classic). His full summation of Unity was thus:

"Unity is very well-written and shows good political nous. A fine thriller: it is also a work of sharp prose and great economy. ‘Art is the gift of saying the most with the least’ and Mike Bodnar knows this.’ "

Author David Pinner

Lovely. From that I have chosen 'A fine thriller' as the key takeaway, and it now adorns the cover of all versions: the eBook, paperback and hardcover. (And before you ask, yes it does pay to 'know people'. One of my oldest friends just happens to be acquainted with Pinner, so he acted as a go-between for me and cleared the way for Mr. P to read the book and comment on it. I am lucky.)

My main problem however remains: I still don't have a marketing budget, nor a publisher with a distribution network, nor any major literary platform on which to showcase Unity. Yes I now have a wonderful endorsement, but all I can afford to do is continue to bombard my (very) limited following on social media with it.

I do have a few other ideas up my literary promotional sleeve: I plan to send a copy of the book to ITV with both the endorsements in the hope they'll consider Unity as a potential screenplay. (It is in fact written very much in a filmic style). On the other hand they might just take me to court on some basis of copyright infringement, but let them try; the publicity could be invaluable!

Another is to send it to mainstream book reviewers (ditto the endorsements) in the hope that David Pinner's support makes them at least take notice rather than bin it outright. Guardian, The Times et al, you have been warned.

Reviews for the asking (and paying)

Whenever I post on X (the platform formerly known as Twitter) I get inundated with offers from soi disant reviewers saying they will review my book for their 10k, 100k, 250k followers in return for a certain amount of money - so far anywhere between US$30 and $45 plus cost of the book. Well no thanks; I don't hold with the ethics of paying for reviews which, to my mind, renders them worthless.

One thing I can hope for perhaps is that when I've finished writing my next novel (12k words so far but slow progress) which is not tied to any TV programme I can approach mainstream publishers with the endorsements I got for Unity as evidence that I at least know how to write. It might help.

But in the meantime I need to find a cheap (read: free) way of capitalising on David Pinner's wonderful words. I've done virtually everything I can using social media including even trying to give the book away for free (no takers, go figure). It's like finding a dropped diamond after a robbery of the Crown Jewels at the Tower of London: it's worth a fortune but you can't do anything with it.

Any literary gemologists out there?

The Success of Self-Publishing

 Mike Bodnar looks at what opportunities the Covid pandemic has created for aspiring authors...

The impacts of Covid-19 on the mainstream book market are many, with closed bookshops, cancelled book launches and publishers' strategies in disarray. However, none of this seems to have stopped writers. If anything it's given them a new lease on life.

With more time stuck at home due to the pandemic, an increasing number of people are using the opportunity to write that novel, memoir or history book, and submit it in the hope of publication, fame and fortune. You've probably got an idea for a best-selling book tucked away in the back of your mind somewhere too, haven't you? Go on, you know you have.

However, all this time for creativity has ironically increased the workload of publishers and literary agents, even if their sector is in chaos. In a recent Guardian article, one publisher said that their normal workload of four or five manuscripts a day had increased since Covid to as many as 16 a day, while a literary agent complained that her quotidian in-tray now included as many as 27 manuscripts. Yes, you read that correctly: per day!

So competition for publishers' and agents' attention is intense, but you can bypass mainstream publishing altogether by self-publishing, which an increasing number of indie authors are doing – and not necessarily due to a fear of rejection.

Self-published books are finally breaking through the decades-old stigma they've suffered, namely that if it's self-published then by definition it's inferior. (And yes, it has to be said that some self-published books are sadly wanting, if not dire.) On the upside, self-publishing has become the method of choice for many successful writers because it generates a bigger share of sales revenue, while offering more control over the work.

Out of this world success

Waving the flag for independence are fêted titles such asThe Martian, Fifty Shades of Grey, Still Alice, and The Shack – all successful self-published works. But what 'success' looks like is important, and not always to do with how many copies an author sells or how rich and famous they become, as we'll see.

Then there are self-publishing companies, providing everything from proofreading and editing through to cover design, printing, marketing and sales management. You choose how much of a package you want, or can afford. The main difference between these companies and the big established publishers is that you pay them to publish your work, not the other way round.

Self-publishing options today are many, largely thanks to the internet and digital publishing opportunities; on-demand printing, eBooks, and audio books can be achieved easily, with no publisher involved and with potentially much greater profits than traditional publishing.

But before you start you need to ask, 'How will I define success?' In the examples of sell-out self-published books above, success is in sales numbers, rave reviews, publishing contracts and film deals. But success can be a lot more modest and diverse than that.

For example, let's say you wish to write your family history. Your 'market' is likely

Rave reviews...

 your immediate and extended family. So, they get to own a professionally-published record of the family chronicle, while you have the satisfaction of being the originator of the work. 

There's no financial reward and no film deal, but your market – small and intimate as it is – will be delighted with what you've created (and they'll give you all the rave reviews you want).

Or you might write a travel memoir, based on your adventures riding a motorbike halfway round the world. Here you want to entertain and inspire others, so your target market is the armchair traveller and would-be adventurer. Success therefore might be readers saying they enjoyed your book so much that they're now planning their own adventure.

Avoid clichés like the plague

Then of course there's the novel, that edge-of-the-seat thriller, sci-fi drama or fantasy battle between the forces of good and evil etc. and so on. Self-publishing allows you to indulge in all the clichés that mainstream publishers would reject out of hand. Just be aware that your target market might do the same! 

Success here could be that despite all the science-fiction that's been written in the last 200 years, you come up with something unique that grabs the imagination of the public and nets you sales in the millions. Or maybe you'll just win an award of some sort. Clear space on the mantelpiece now.

But success could also simply be the extremely practical result that your publishing and promotional costs have been covered by sales, to the point where the book doesn't owe you anything. Any subsequent sales are a bonus, (maybe enabling you to create an audio book version!).

This, as a matter of interest, is the situation I find myself in; I sold all 500 copies of my self-published travel book Against The Current (a modest but practical number to print) and although now out of print, the eBook version is still selling, plus I've made enough from sales to not only cover the costs of publishing but also to fund the audio book version (which so far has sold around 200 copies and is still going). I call that success, even though I'm still waiting for someone to buy the film rights off me.

Sold out, sorry...

So success in self-publishing is what you make it, and not just about rave reviews, getting on a best-seller list, or striking a movie deal.

If you've been thinking of using lockdown to finally turn that book idea into reality, go for it. But decide upfront what your success is going to look like. That way you won't be disappointed.

Now, get on that keyboard!